This Would Be The End
by Unmasked Potential
Summary: His world had turned still. The moment he was completely submerged in the shifting waves, his world had turned still...Over and over he tried to break through to the surface, but a weight held him down. Something was holding him down in a vicious, unrelenting fashion. No, wait… They were hands. Loki is drowning and someone is trying to kill him. Would this be the end for them?
1. Chapter 1

This Would Be The End

His world had turned still.

The moment he was completely submerged in the shifting waves, his world had turned still.

It didn't make any sense, not really. How could his world be still if the choppiness of the water and the salt of the sea were pouring into every nook and cranny of his form?

He was gasping for air, except his lungs wouldn't work and his mouth wouldn't swallow the colorless gas. Instead, he was swallowing large cups of water, inhaling the liquid, driving it further down his frosty lungs.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't fucking _breathe_.

Over and over he tried to break through to the surface, but a weight held him down.

Something was holding him down in a vicious, unrelenting fashion.

No, wait…

They were hands. Hands were holding him down, wrapped around his ever constricting throat. Hands were wrapped around the muscles that were so desperately trying to fill his lungs with anything other than the fluidity that swayed around him.

There wasn't anything he could hold onto. There wasn't any way he could reach beyond the enemy and strike them.

He was sinking, maybe floating, maybe not, in a pool of nothingness. The choppy channels bumping into his body as he attempted to fight his way out.

Nothing all around him, nothing surrounding him, everything had twisted into some dark, limitless grasp of nothingness.

Just like when he had fallen through the void-surrounded by nothing, everything was nothing, he was nothing.

His vision was blurring with the stinging of the salt water to his eyes. His vision was blurring and soon there would be a permanent lapse of nothingness awaiting him in Hel. Soon there would be darkness, but for now there was blue around the edges, blue in his line of vision, cream colored skin above his torso.

He couldn't help but think of his not-brother then. Childhood memories seeped into his mind like swirling flashbacks-memories of bilgesnipe, hunting, fighting, father yelling at them, snippets of mother's cool embrace. Unbidden feelings wrapped his brain in a sickening hold: anger, envy, jealousy yet love, happiness and regret. He thought of the valiant and golden fool that was his not-brother.

 _Was_.

Because while his not-brother was somewhere above the nothingness, somewhere amongst the something-ness, he was not, and he was below it all, just as he had been all his life. He was nothing and he was emerging into nothingness, just as he had done when he'd courageously let go of the staff and fell, fell, fell into the void.

His not-brother was above him in every way shape and form-physically for his strength, physically above him on the ground, safe and filled with anger and heroic jubilation. Emotionally his not-brother was above him, the younger demigod foolish in his sentimental feelings and woe is me.

His not-brother was alive, would be alive. But he? He was not.

He could not be.

For all his time spent cooped up in the libraries of Asgard, all his time spent fighting with and alongside his not-brother, all his hundreds of years of life-not once had he considered learning how to swim.

A fool he was, indeed. For such heaps of information would have been helpful and life-saving to him now, in this moment. Even with fingers grasping his throat with taunt muscles, at least he could have swam, could have done something other than buckling and shaking uselessly under the gallons and gallons of water.

Salt water, ocean water, drowning.

If Asgard's all-seeing aid would ever have warned the demigod that he would one day in the future be drowning, the younger prince would have scoffed at him. He wouldn't have believed a word the golden eyed man had said, and he would have shaken his head and hurried back to dive his nose into yet another spellbound book.

But here he was. Here he was, under the water of a Midgardian ocean, drowning. With someone, someone filled with the rage and hate that once coursed through the trickster's veins holding him down.

 _Murder._

Oh, by the Norns, how could he have forgotten that flimsy little detail?

Not only was he drowning, not only was he to be dying in such a pathetic manner, but he was being actively **killed**. Whoever rode above him was strangling him, choking him with the ocean at their hand, pushing him down, down, down further.

 _Murder suicide_.

It had to be. How else would this foul creature be able to kill him with the ocean water if they weren't also sprouting on the branch and killing themselves too?

 _In order to kill me, they have to kill themselves, too_. The thought rattled like coins in the trickster's quickly fleeing brain.

Well, now didn't that just narrow down the list?

But wait, Midgard…so he was on Midgard. If he was on Midgard, then that did narrow down the list.

That meant…oh by the Norns, it meant-

His body was growing limp. Water logged and heavy, this was it.

These would be his last thoughts, no air available for him to utter them from his bluing lips. No stack of paper available for him to record the moment they began to be caught in the delusions of nonsense.

He felt his body spasm, three, four, five more times.

He felt the fluid gathering in his lungs, the sea becoming part of him and him with it.

His eyes were closed, had been for quite some time, it was just too painful, too unbearable to watch-watch as the water surrounded him and he fell, deeper, deeper into oblivion.

Maybe this time it would hurt less. Maybe he wouldn't find himself on some other planet in the nine realms, not to be tortured and manipulated by the hands of other alien creatures.

Maybe this time he would truly, truly find peace. Freedom, the taste of it on his tongue was questionable but he had such a quench for it.

Maybe, just maybe, this was it….

If things would just go his way for once, this would be his end.

His body gave one last kick, his heart one last beat.

But he was Loki Laufeyson, and things just never went his way. Not even in his death.

* * *

 **A/N:** I've been on a writing roll this week, I cannot help it! I'm planning for this to be a short "one-shot" split into two chapters, but if you'd like to read more I can also grow it out. Say the word, peoples! ;)

Inspiration gathered from the scene in Thor when Loki finds out his true parentage and Odin falls into the Odinsleep (in which there's that water channeling down below the staircase). And the music that aided in my delivery of this chapter "It all runs together". :)

Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

This Would Be The End

The events happened in a chaotic blur of emotion. One minute the Avengers gang was all together battling against the very last of their latest foe, and the next Thor's younger sibling was plunging through the ocean beneath them.

But he wasn't alone.

Something snapped in the archer when he laid his eyes on the shadowy figure that could only have been his enemy from years ago. He had dreamed of this fateful day, a day where he could enact revenge on the demigod who tore his mind to shreds and left him and the team with the pieces to pick up in the aftermath.

He had acted so quickly, he hadn't had time to process what the end would mean for him.

He just knew he had to kill him, the trickster, he just had to.

So he pushed the demigod out of the helicarrier they were all held up in. And the two of them fell through the air weightless like balloons, and they crashed into the ocean, limbs flailing in every direction.

He hadn't expected the wrath of the waves as soon as he plunged into the water, and he was even more surprised by the way the trickster responded to the sudden and unexpected impact. But he used this to his advantage, wrapping his fingers tightly around his enemy's exposed throat, the idiot who had armor around his whole frame besides his weakest point.

The water rushed up the archer's nose, and despite holding his breath for as long as he could, he knew he was kicking the bucket real soon when his legs started to spasm and his lungs kicked out all the air they once had. Salty, contaminated liquid squeezed into every morsel of his being, and still he dared not to look away with his piercing gaze into the horrified eyes of his once hell bent mind controller.

The details got blurry around the edges when his vision swam into nothingness. But he was still sure he had done the right thing, even as his body crumpled into oblivion.

~ #*# ~

It was the Man of Iron that found him first.

Red and gold armor glinted in the afternoon sunlight, as the glum man carefully placed his younger brother onto the net of soft, warm sand.

"Jarvis, run a vitals check," Stark barely stated, his voice softer from the pain of emotion and the wheeling of his thoughts as he was still trying to process what the hell had just happened, much like the rest of them.

All he knew for sure was that two people were down-one was Legolas and the other was somehow, some way, for some reason, their long ago enemy Loki.

How the day could get any weirder was beyond him.

"Very well, sir," came Jarvis' reply, initializing an analysis of the trickster's vital signs….or lack thereof.

Tony paused. He paused and he suddenly took a mental step backwards and really took in the scene for a moment.

How was it that the Avengers had managed to arrive as safely as possible onto this nearby beach, dig out their friend and prior villain and was somehow expected to just save them both?

Sure, right, it had been five years since New York-just the mention of the word made Tony's insides scream. Did that mean they were just supposed to move on? When their enemy suddenly appeared and short of doing nothing, could have been up to something, and they were just what, supposed to help him?

Tony swallowed, his brown eyes gazing over to Barton's soggy form, where Bruce was already starting CPR and Natasha, eyes wide and hair wild, was busy giving mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Tony could practically feel the concern and fear ebbing off of their Thunder god, but he couldn't help the quiet, almost muted statement fall from his lips,

"Are you sure you want to save him?"

Tony didn't miss a beat when the heavy hands of the golden god landed on his shoulder plates. In between the incomprehensible yelling that Thor was making and the look of contempt shot his way from Steve, Tony guessed he had said that out loud for everyone to hear. Which, in retrospect, wasn't the greatest of ideas he'd come up with.

Short of being pounded into the ground by Thor's angry fists, Steve just yelled at Thor to back off and told Tony, "Stark! This isn't the time for moral dilemmas! We have to help NOW and only now, do you understand me?"

Tony bit his lip behind his faceplate and nodded stiffly.

"Vitals are nonexistent. Reindeer Games is deader than dead."

"Then let's do our best to change that," Steve replied, eyeing Tony apprehensively.

Whether Steve gave him that look because he was uncertain of Tony's commitment to saving the trickster, or because Steve had his own dilemmas about what they were about to do, Tony wasn't quite sure. All he knew next was that he was kneeling over the demigod and pushing his interlocked hands down into the god's armored chest.

Steve took up the front, leaning back Loki's skull and pressing his warm lips to a frozen corpse.

Tony tried not to think too much about that, his stomach doing flip flops in a symptom of disgust.

They worked in unison like that for a while. Tony applying pressure to what he guessed was the area around Loki's heart, Frost Giant anatomy meant he didn't know exactly where that organ lied (if he even had one to begin with), and Steve taking up the supply of oxygen, dearly needed in Thor's brother.

Tony's ears easily picked up the sputtering and admonishment when Barton started to come back to the land of the living. He could just make out Natasha's warm voice muttering to Clint and Bruce heaving a sigh of utmost relief. He could see out of the corner of his eye Clint being rolled over to his side, the archer spitting up water from his frozen lungs as he shivered from the aftermath of his stupid ass decision.

Tony wanted to go over to his friend and slap him on the back in a congratulatory 'You're the man!' way, but he was too busy fighting his internal demons as he watched in his mind's eye the Chitauri's army invading New York. He watched with a brisk detachment as Loki, then, had tossed him out his own window, as the trickster had lied unceremoniously upon his floor when all of the Avengers had gathered together to watch his pitiful form ask for a drink.

Tony bit his lip absently behind the face plate, thankful for his suit still being on so that no one but Jarvis could witness the emotional toll this was taking upon his soul.

"What's happening?" Thor asked through pale lips, eyes glancing from Barton's more lively form to Loki's still and lonesome self.

"He's dead, Thor," Tony muttered in distaste as he eyed the trickster below him and felt a pang of guilt spread through his limbs. Maybe he was being too harsh on the dude, even if the trickster was as fucked up as he was (and he was), he was still shitting on Thor's brother, and he was going to pay for that hell later.

Steve scoffed in displeasure, and Tony for a moment considered that Steve was working harder to save Loki than he himself was.

"But you can bring him back?" The thunder god's voice broke on that last word, choked out between helpless sobs, his emotions unfurled and torn between wanting his brother alive and knowing Loki would want to be let go of.

But Thor was his brother, no matter what Loki said otherwise, and he couldn't let him go so fast, not ever. So Thor held onto the broken pieces of hope that glowed in his arms, and watched in dismay at his brother's cold form, ashen and lost before him.

"We'll do the best we can, Thor," Bruce had made his way over to them, now, and Tony looked up to see Clint leaning onto Natasha, his face buried in her shoulder. Tony assumed Clint was coughing, by the wracking movement of his shoulders, but he thought just as quickly that he may as well be sobbing. Tony swallowed thickly; this was turning into a weirder day by the second.

"Do you need me to switch?" Bruce asked Tony, cool eyes gazing into the blank face plate.

Tony considered it for half a moment, but shook his head.

"Nah, I've been lifting more weights than you so I've got this covered," Tony forced a small chuckle of what was meant to be lightheartedness into the conversation but what sounded more like a pained whimper.

Steve snorted again, rolling his eyes in response, and easily continuing the breaths he was supplying to Loki's lungs.

Loki.

My God, Tony thought to himself. How again was it that they wound up in this situation? Twenty minutes into trying to revive a demigod who once wanted world domination and still, Tony was helping him out, trying to save his ass for the sake of his older brother and the tears of regret and shame that would inevitably encase the god if they were to lose.

As each minute ticked on and Loki showed no response of returning to life, Tony's icy stance slipped and melted more and more.

Okay, Tony could understand holding a grudge, but when he thought about it longer, this was someone's brother, someone's family that he was working on trying to save. This … demigod below his very hands was someone people cared about, or once did, or always will-in Thor's case. Somehow the trickster had the ability to be loved for deeply while returning utmost hatred in response to those who cared for him. He was prideful and boastful, but also lost and emotional. He didn't want help from others, and how could Tony pretend not to relate to that?

Yeah, he had done some fucked up shit in his hundreds of years of living, but to Thor, he was still and would always be his brother.

Holding the fate of your friend's sibling in your fists was a lot to ask for, and it was then that Tony swallowed hard and put more pressure down in his tired, locked up shoulders.

He had to try his best to save Loki, despite how much he hated the guy, if only to increase his chances of sleeping better at night, knowing he did all he could to help out Thor.

This wasn't about his problems with the demigod, but about Thor's love and caring for his brother despite all the bullshit Loki had done.

This was about another life lying within their hands, and the power they had in that moment to do everything they could to either help him or aid in his death.

No, Tony wasn't about to become a murderer. His wit and charm and philanthropist nature didn't roll that way.

He was going to save Loki, and no amount of time passing was going to change that.

Even if, terribly so, it had been about forty minutes since this whole incident had begun.

"We've got to switch," Steve's leadership role suddenly imploded like fireworks in Tony's skull.

"What? No, Cap, I've got this now," Tony realized then how out of breath he sounded.

"We don't need you going into cardiac arrest too, Tony," Steve pointed out easily, eyeing the billionaire with a knowing look.

Tony panted in response, unlocking his fingers from their hug and leaning back on his hunches. Tony's sore muscles screamed at him from the sudden change of movement, and for a moment he was thankful that Steve had suggested the switch, that is, until he saw Thor light up his hammer with a bolt of lightning.

Eyes wide, Tony cried out, "Whoa, Thor, what are you doing?"

Before anyone else had time to react, their forms surrounding Loki, Thor unleashed a trickle of the lightning onto his brother's chest.

Loki's shoulders rose up from the sandy beach at the lurching electricity flowing through him, only to collapse back to the ground without a change.

Steve stared in shock at the sudden ferocity that Thor was unleashing, Tony looked dumbfounded behind his mask and Bruce looked oddly impressed.

They watched as Thor sent through a series of shocks into Loki's system, hoping with halted breath that this makeshift defibrillator would create some positive effect.

To Tony's dismay, Jarvis' readings on Loki's vitals remained eerily silent.

Tears formed at the edges of Thor's vision, as he sent wave after wave of white blue light into Loki. He would not give up, he couldn't, this was his brother and he would be damned if the Allfather did nothing to save him.

 _Please, Father_ , Thor silently pleaded, the storm clouds blocking out the sunlight as the grey black sky mimicked his outcries.

An hour must have been clocking in when Thor, anger pummeling through his veins, sent up a large wave of lightning from Mjolnir and shot it once again into Loki's chest.

Thor steadied the power of electricity, channeling as much as his love and desperation into the action as he could muster, watching as Loki's body enveloped into a glow of white while his back arched higher off the ground before Thor reluctantly released him.

He was about to try again, when the Man of Iron held up a quick hand.

"Wait! We've got something!"

Shoulders collapsed inwards, his heavy hands dropping his hammer as he waited with a breath held tightly in his bosom for Loki to react.

When they all heard the sputtering and saw the cracked lips part, water spewing out from the trickster's mouth, they all let out a long, released sigh.

Tony and Steve acted quickly to push Loki onto his left side, watching as the trickster spit up rivulets of water and a concerning thin coat of blood. Tony glanced quickly at Bruce, whose eyes were narrowed in confusion about the presence of the red liquid.

"Loki!" Thor called out, dropping to his knees out of weakness from the turmoil of emotions that had been wracking through his body at high speed.

Tears sprinkled down from Thor's face as his hands clawed out to his little brother, hoping to hold him again for it had been so long. A yearning to hug his younger sibling, to coddle him and whisper to him how much he loved him went through Thor like shock waves.

He had almost lost his brother, LOST him, for good, forever.

Thick fingers met the green and black leather armor of Loki's shoulder, and Thor could feel the twinge from his brother's body as he jerked away.

A feeling of familiarity at rejection came over Thor's face by a wrinkle in his forehead and a softening of his eyes, but in truth, his younger sibling was not out of the woods yet. Rather, these woods were just beginning.

Loki sputtered and coughed repeatedly, for what seemed like longer than the time he had been out of life. His green eyes were hidden away behind the darkness of his eyelids, as he continued to splutter and cry out from what took forever to dawn upon them.

"…He's in pain…" Tony uttered softly, his voice cracking as anxiety suddenly encompassed his features. _Oh shit_ , Tony thought, _what have we done?_

* * *

 _A/N: Written_  
12/9, 12/10/16, 2/24/17.

I finally have an update! I wrote the majority of this second chapter back in December but got stuck after Loki got revived and never got around to finishing it up, well, I found a place to end the chapter on for now! Keep your eyes peeled for more story updates within the next month or so :) Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you'd like, I'll give you a virtual cookie!


	3. Chapter 3

This Would Be The End

Chapter 3

 _Bubbles formed upon his lips._

 _ **Eeeeeeeerrrrrghhhhhh.**_

 _Hands wrapped around his flesh._

 _ **Eeeeeeeerrrrrghhhhhhhhh.**_

 _Choking._

 _Strangled._

 _Dying._

 _ **Darkness.**_

 _P-A-I-N._

 _No one to save him._

 _No one to calm him._

 _Sinking._

 _Drifting._

 _Eclipsing._

 _This was it._

 _He was gone._

 _No - more._

 _Forever._

 _G-O-N-E._

 _He would not be coming back._

 _How could he?_

 _He was dead-just as he was always meant to be._

 _ **Dead**_ _._

 _Erased._

 _Life driftwood._

 _In a sea._

 _He had died._

 _This was it._

 _The end._

 _No more..._

~#*#~

"Loki."

A sweet voice sounded in the darkness.

"Loki."

He…knew that…voice.

"Looo-ki."

"M-mother?" His eyes refused to open, the muscles not cooperating.

"Loooo-kiiiiiiii!"

Her voice rang shrill, longer-fading.

"Mother."

Green eyes sprang open.

Bright light flooded into his pupils-overshadowing the existence of all things surrounding him.

"Mother?" his voice raised an octave. His eyes were not adjusting-they were not taking in the space around him. He didn't know where he was, barely even registered who he was, and he could hardly hear his mother's comforting tone of voice hang around his shoulders.

"Mother!" Loki cried out, though he would never admit it. His eyes searched frantically for her as his vision took painstakingly long to clear.

 _Where was she? Where was she?_

 _Was she hurt? Alone? Lost?_

His mind raced ahead, images and words flooding his vision as the world shimmered and sparkled in bits of white.

"Mother?" he asked again, voice lowering to a whisper.

Maybe-they weren't alone.

Mistrust colored his tone as he asked for her again.

Up ahead, he witnessed a furl of her peach robe turn the corner of the white bricked wall-green trees lining the horizon as he realized they were together in a garden back in the castle of Asgard.

He looked down towards his legs but found a fog of white staring back at him.

Confusion flitted across his irises as it dawned on him that wherever they were, it was probably not real, not on Asgard and he wouldn't be able to move.

"Is this a dream?" he asked aloud, hoping his mother's robes would return back to him.

"Isn't it always?" A new voice lifted from the light as a shortened, Dutch version of Thor appeared to the left of Loki.

"Brother?" Loki questioned, lips drawn to an amused frown.

"Who else would I be?" Thor muttered, tossing a yellow and red flower into the air over Loki's raven locks.

Loki blinked, "Where are we?"

Thor's head tilted back as he boisterously laughed.

"Where? But in your mind, of course!"

"My…mind?"

"Why yes, brother! And what a mighty fine mind this is! Don't you recall?" Thor hastened a serious gaze to his younger sibling.

"Recall what exactly?" Loki murmured, gaze fixating on his brother as if he hadn't seen him in years-which felt vaguely familiar at least.

"The accident, of course!" Thor's tone returned to a cheerful uproar as more flower petals filtered down over Loki's head.

Loki found himself growing more perplexed and even more suspicious.

"What accident, Thor?" he asked seriously.

Thor returned the gesture by smiling wider.

"The accident! With the archer! You know the one-my friend, Barton, we have worked together. He shoots arrows for his line of work. A mighty fine line of work it is, mhmph!" Thor ascended floating set of pale blush stairs.

Loki's deep sigh rattled through his ribcage. His dream brother was notorious for taking extra-long to fill him in on whatever nonsense was occurring in the real world. A habit that real world Thor took extra time to boast and jest with Loki.

"What happened in the accident, Thor?"

"What accident? There's been an accident?" Thor gawked at his brother.

Loki took another deep breath and rolled his eyes, "With agent Barton. And myself. That accident."

"Oh!" Thor exclaimed, a tutu appearing around his waist as he clicked studded red heels together. "Of course! Well, I believe it was your presence that alerted him. He acted on impulse, of course-nothing too personal-besides the fact that you controlled his mind for a period of time and forced him to kill his colleagues and go against everything he believed in, yes. Despite that, he awarded you-and himself-death of the highest order! Hehe!"

Thor's unhinged babble continued on in the background as Loki's vision blurred.

Dead?

He, Loki of Asgard, was dead?

A period of silence enveloped Loki as the world erased around him-depositing him suddenly into his green and gold clad bedroom in Asgard.

Frigga, behind him, ran her long fingers through his hair.

"I am afraid it is true, my dear. You passed for a time, but your brother's friends were able to save you."

Loki, suddenly and inexplicably, laughed.

"Ohohoho, mother, you must be mistaken. There is no way in Helheim that the Avengers of all mortals risked their petty little lives to save mine."

"Then it is you who are in the wrong, Loki. For, Thor's friends have indeed risked their lives to save yours. And, my son, you are well deserving of this rescue." Frigga looked sadly upon her youngest, her own memories and hopes for him having been fallen to the back of her mind-too painful to think long or hard about, but resurfacing all the same in this moment.

Loki let out a loud, dark laugh.

"Mother, you think too highly of me and your love for me blinds you to the atrocities I have knowingly and willingly committed in the name of power," Loki uttered bitterly.

Frigga cooed to herself under her breath.

"Loki, my son, you know perfectly well as do I that you have never been able to lie to me. Your tricks were always mischievous, yes, but never done out of malice." Frigga paused for a moment, hand running down Loki's hair, easing at his shoulders. "Until Thor's coronation," Frigga hesitated briefly, "I would not have expected you of all Asgardians to shield your pain as well as you did. Why, Loki, do you insist so heavily to guard your pain? Has living in Asgard truly done so much damage to your young heart and mind?"

Loki breathed for a few moments, uncertainties riding like waves into him as he wasn't sure what to say or do next. There was so much pain that lay hidden behind his mother's words and he couldn't help but to voice the hiccup that sprang easily to his mind.

"But I am neither Asgardian nor truly your son." Before Frigga could protest Loki continued. "I have laid waste to many a species. First Jotunheim then Midgard. I do not expect redemption for my crimes. I…have come to accept them and the hate that flows through my enemies veins. I do not seek pity or forgiveness-neither rehabilitation." Loki shrugged innocuously. "If rage is meant to follow my actions of the previous century, then so be it. You must understand my perspective, mother. I was unwanted, unneeded, placed second for everything, and lied to by the ones who claimed to love me most. It…has damaged me. It may always do so. There is little hope for me yet…"

Loki's green eyes cast down to the foggy floor, continuing to avoid the prowling eyes of his not-mother.

"You know I will never give up on you, Loki. Nor will Thor. It matters little to me what you have done-which is not to suggest it does not pain me. An individual such as yourself must go through the process of deep loss and pain to commit such heinous acts. I mean not to minimize your previous actions, and I still love you. You may not be my son of blood but you will always be mine in heart. I love you, Loki, and I believe it is time for you to begin to learn to love yourself."

Loki rested in silence, understanding beginning to mend his broken shards.

"And how to you propose I achieve such heights in honor?" he questioned quietly, neck turning to catch a glimpse of his mother's comforting eyes.

"First, you _live_ , Loki. You have spent so much of your life hidden away for your studies or letting go of your mind and soul on the Bifrost and upon Midgard-it is time for you now to lay with your wounds and learn to not pick at them but rather grow with your scars. Life treats many of us unwell, my son. It gives us many challenges and obstacles and for you to have come into this life at all means that you were born strong enough to live it. You will always be my son, and I, your mother. You can become someone again, Loki. If you are ever to fret, know my son that I believe in you. You are so strong-allow your light to shine up and above you, Loki. You were born to become a beacon."

As Frigga's words descended onto Loki, he could feel a light pressure easing over his green eyes, his lids closing shut. A sense of radiating warmth hued his cheeks as it continued to blossom up into his chest.

"Good night, my son," he heard filter into his ears before blissful sleep re-encompassed him.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, you know, it's been a while! I have not given up on this fic and have a bunch of updates to be doing to all of them, soon! This piece was handwritten on January 24.2018 around 7p while I was in the hospital. I am working on Chapter 4 now, too, and will be updating the following soon (if you happen to be reading them as well): "Distorted  & Disordered", "Severed", "A Little Unsteady." Hope you're all well and don't forget to leave a review! Thank you! 3/10/18 PS It bugs me that my cool little page breaks don't work anymore. D:


	4. Chapter 4

This Would Be the End

Chapter 4

Everything seemed to happen in a blur. One minute all of the Avengers were on a nearby shoreline and the next they were cruising fast down the interstate. Tony couldn't exactly recall how this had all happened. His memory flitted back and forth between watching the archer tackle-jump Thor's younger, adopted brother Loki from their helicarrier to trying to save said brother (and Barton) to realizing Loki was mumbling out in pain. It had taken over an hour to revive Loki, maybe twenty minutes or less to revive Barton. Thor's makeshift defibrillator of his hammer was proving to have some potentially disastrous consequences.

Sure, Loki was alive-and that **was** huge-but he hadn't regained consciousness, he only barely responded to external stimuli and he was obviously struggling to return to a pain free state.

Tony bit his bottom lip as he sat uncharacteristically silent and without his armor in the padded teal seat of the ambulance. Thor was with him and Steve as well while Bruce, Natasha and Barton were in the ambulance behind them. It was crowded, to say the least, and Tony didn't miss a beat when the SHIELD agents turned EMT personnel clearly didn't know what they were doing.

Guilt circled its way into Thor's features as confusion lifted the brows of the EMTs as they busied themselves by doing nothing in particular.

One of the EMT workers, a woman with short, blonde spiky hair, placed the heart monitor wires onto Loki's-well, it wasn't quite his chest. He still had his armor on and trying to peel away the leather and metal was causing them difficulties.

The other EMT turned to Thor with large sheers in their hands.

"We have to cut his armor off." It almost sounded like a question. In other circumstances it may have given Tony a chance to smile.

Thor, barely keeping his wits together, nodded stiffly in a manner that said _do everything you can and if you fail there will be hell to pay_.

They worked silently and quickly to remove what they could. The rest lay unbothered around his waist and shoulders as the blonde was finally able to place the lines.

A rapid pulse rate for humans blinked onto the small monitor while the oxygen levels blinked at 80. The red haired paramedic swiveled to Thor, eyes almost downcast as he asked, "Is this level normal for his species?"

Thor's lips quivered, as though uncertain as to whether he should be insulted for the sake of his brother. He chewed on his lip, for a moment laced with second thoughts, before uttering the words, "I don't believe so."

The paramedics exchanged a glance.

Thor didn't miss a beat. "What?" he asked, judgment lying heavily in his tone.

The red haired paramedic shifted on his feet.

"We're just not sure how to proceed." His lips smacked unceremoniously. "If we administer medications he may burn them off quicker than we can supply them but, at the same time, we're not sure what could happen if we overmedicate him. Without more technology we can't possibly figure out what is really going on internally."

The ambulance bumped and slid over the patchy potholes and the man's eyes shone with the perplexity of whether he should do his job or call it quits. Tony recognized his dilemma as to what his own had been an hour ago, but at least Tony had come around whereas this guy's intentions were much shadier.

"If you're saying you don't-can't-help him then why are you here?" Tony's voice cracked with irritability. Who did this guy think he was?

Tensions rose in Tony's shoulders as Steve diplomatically handled the situation with an, "I think you need to do as you were assigned to." Steve's blue eyes narrowed and Thor, looking grim, nodded as a spark of anger pierced his eyes.

"Do everything you can to save my brother and, if you don't," his lips curled back in a snarl, "you will not wish to see my wrath."

The red haired man gulped audibly before he started in a haste to place an intravenous line in Loki's bare arm.

Tony continued to feel inexplicably useless for the rest of the ride.

~#*#~

The doors to the back of the ambulance unlocked and swung open as the agents stumbled out, shifting their weight on their feet to enter the awaiting glass door of Avengers Tower. After them, the second ambulance opened in which Bruce and Natasha stepped out with Barton resting in shame on the gurney.

Bruce quickened his pace as he hollered back to their ambulance in which Loki was being wheeled out of: "Get him to the medical bay! I'll meet you there."

Bruce disappeared in a shuffle before Tony could get himself out the back. His wardrobe was in need of changing, his black band shirt was ruffled and his dark blue jeans were bunched up on one pant leg. His arms hung loosely at his sides, that awkwardness returning to him as he didn't know what to do with his appendages when they weren't holding some kind of tool.

Steve clapped a hand over Thor's meaty shoulder, claiming some kind of reassurance that was muffled to Tony's ears. Tony could tell he looked a mess by the exhaustion that hung from his shoulders but, if it were possible, Thor looked much worse.

His long blonde hair appeared almost stringy with grease as if he hadn't showered in weeks when only a few hours had passed. His eyes were glued to the passenger in the gurney that had already escaped his line of vision as the agents were moving him into the closest elevator. Thor could faintly hear the dinging chime of the machine as they traveled farther and farther away.

In sympathy, Tony elbowed Thor's ribs.

"He's gonna be okay. Bruce will know what to do," even as he said it, he wasn't sure it was true.

Thor winced in what Tony thought was meant to be a smile. Tony paused for a moment before he shrugged and added, "I'm sorry, Thor."

Thor's gaze flicked to Tony as he acknowledged him again for the first time since everything had happened.

"I don't even know why he was here," he murmured sadly. "If I had known this would happen I would have…" He trailed off, almost absently.

Tony grimaced, "I know, buddy. It's hard. But we're gonna do everything we can, you know that."

Thor's attention had shifted again and as he trotted forward he said quickly back over his shoulder, "Thank you."

For once, Tony felt he had earned it.

~#*#~

Bruce closed his eyes for a second, a long breath going into his lungs as he held it for two seconds and relinquished it back into the air with an audible sigh. He repeated this calming exercise two to three times before his brown eyes parted and he returned to the problem at hand. It was Bruce's responsibility to figure out where Loki's pain was coming from. The demigod had sustained injuries to his neck from where Clint had strangled him, and Bruce couldn't help but think how absurd that was, injuries related to drowning and injuries from Thor's makeshift defibrillator.

Because Loki was a Frost Giant, and because it had taken multiple times to revive him, Bruce was pretty sure he had sustained internal injuries. It was possible that his veins and arteries were hardening in response to the electricity that flowed through him with every blast from Thor's hammer. This, coupled with the lack of oxygen meant that they could be looking at a brain damaged demigod with past homicidal tendencies. Bone fractures and dislocations were also a possibility because every jolt of lightning would have caused Loki's muscles to contract, potentially damaging the nearby bones and joints. Additionally, because of the near constant chest compressions, they were also looking at a possibly fractured sternum.

Basically, Bruce had his work cut out for him.

He turned his head to where he was hoping Natasha would appear from. He was hoping the red haired assassin would appear at any moment to help and the first thing Bruce would need were blood tests, X-rays, an EKG, an EEG and probably more painkillers. If Loki were to not regain consciousness to explain where his pain was coming from, and who knew how long that could take, they would have to funnel in painkiller after painkiller to hopefully cover up his pain until they can deal with it properly later.

A sliver of sweat shone on Bruce's temples, and he had to practice his calming exercise three to four more times before he saw the familiar female face.

"What do you need?" Her tone was cool, masking all the emotions Bruce knew were under its surface. Unfortunately, there was no time for squabbling.

"X-rays, blood tests, EKG, EEG and…" Bruce looked around for a clue to his missing link. His brown eyes fell on the lightly writhing god still on the gurney with the SHIELD agents awkwardly standing by not bothering to offer help.

"Painkillers?" Natasha cued back in and Bruce nodded immediately, trying to return his attention to the present moment.

 _Why was he here?_ He couldn't help but think as he instructed the two useless agents to transfer Loki to the awaiting cream colored bed.

"We have to gradually raise his temperature. Moving too fast could kill him."

"Are you sure about that?" Natasha tilted her head. "He is of a different species to us."

"Fuck," Bruce uttered soon after.

Okay, so **maybe** he didn't have any clue as to what he was doing either.

Still-he had to do something.

Bruce took a breath in and sighed, "You're right. Does anyone on this team know anything about Frost Giants?"

"Your best bet is asking the genius in the walls."

The voice surprised Bruce as his eyes turned to the inventor.

Tony held up a hand, "Thor essentially sent me. More so, he wanted to come, I had to tell him that wasn't such a good idea, we argued, you know, the usual." He offered his teammate a grim smile.

"But yeah, Jarvis, could you do us the favor?"

"Of course, sir," was the AI's official reply.

"Okay, Tony, I need you to get the portable X-ray machine," Bruce instructed, looking next to Nat and telling her where to find the toolkit for the necessary blood test.

When Bruce turned around again to the demigod he was able to sigh in relief to find the two agents had disappeared and the intravenous line was still in place. Bruce ordered Nat to extract the blood in a couple of vials and push more morphine.

Soon, Tony was back with the machine and five shots later they had what used to be floppy black and white scans up on the nearest holographic screen.

Tony's eyes narrowed looking at them.

"I don't see anything."

Bruce was silent for another moment before slapping his index finger on a small anomaly.

"There. It's small, but a right shoulder dislocation either way."

"Treatment?" Tony asked, looking impressed.

"Wait," Bruce's eyes squinted again, reviewing the slide where Loki's left hip lay. "I think there's a fracture there."

Tony nodded, still unable to see anything.

"Jarvis?"

"I do believe I see a dislocation to Loki's right shoulder and a hairline fracture to Loki's left femur."

"Awesome," Tony joked, looking again to Bruce.

"Sir," the AI piped in before Bruce had time to utter a single phrase, "I also believe that Loki has sustained a fracture to his sternum, likely due to the sustained pressure of the compressions."

Bruce cursed again, this time more quietly. "First things first, he'll need a splint for the arm. For the sternum, we may be able to get by with more pain medications and a cold compress. We have to watch out for pneumonia though, as a side effect from the drowning. And for the leg…" Bruce trailed off anxiously.

"You also don't have a clue what you're doing, huh?" Tony patted Bruce's sagging shoulder lightly. "It's okay, science bro; you're absolutely spectacular with thermonuclear dynamics and shitty with therapy and medically treating demigods. Turns out, us geniuses are human after all." Tony's smile brightened as he continued to pat Bruce's shoulder.

"Tony, this is serious."

"I know."

"Sir?"

"Ah, look! Jarvis has found an answer. What is it, J?"

"My sincerest apologies, sir, my search results were inconclusive," the AI had an apologetic tone, almost as if he were smiling sadly at the occupants in the medical bay.

"See, Bruce? None of us know what we're doing."

"I'm trying." Bruce all but growled hastily.

"I know. And for now, that's gotta be enough." Tony sighs and crosses his arms. "So, what's next?"

When Bruce was quiet for more than a minute, Tony shook his head.

"The guy's not conscious, Bruce. He's not going to complain and he sure as hell can't offer us feedback. There are no rules here. You can do whatever you feel is right. He's a god, he's gotta have some kind of super strength or something. Something that makes us guys feel small and foolish. Right?"

Bruce nodded, staring at a gold speck on the floor as Tony spoke.

"As long as he doesn't die, we're pretty much good. The guy came back after, what, an hour of being dead?" Tony paused. "You can do this, Bruce, just think outside the box."

Tony turned to Natasha to what Bruce thought would be reassurance but instead was worthy of an eye roll.

"You ever saw that film, "The Box"? God, it was dumb. If the partner had to go to prison for killing their spouse so ultimately their kid would be safe but parentless-man, what a movie."

"Okay, time is not on our side," Bruce began cryptically. "But we do what we can with what's left of it. Let's check his blood for muscle enzymes, get a splint, a good EKG and update Thor to what's going on. Natasha, push another vial of morphine. I don't want him in pain if we can help it. And, speaking of, start a timer so we have an idea to how fast he goes through the medicine."

Bruce looked to each of them in turn before swallowing, still with tendrils of anxiety at his shoulders.

"Ready?"

And so, the countdown began.

~#*#~

"Would you like tea or coffee?" Steve dutifully stood by the Keurig in the kitchen, blue eyes gazing over at the thunder god mutely sitting on the black couch.

"Thor?" Steve questioned again, gently. He knew his teammate was taking this situation with much difficulty. Steve tried imagining what it would be like if he and Bucky were in his place and it made him feel breathless. Steve could only imagine the stress and regret that laced through Thor's veins.

"I'm sure he'll be okay," Steve whispered softly as he brought his own cup of tea back with him to the couch.

Thor stared absently into the air as he was nudged into the small corner of the leather with a haunted expression reflecting in his own blue eyes.

"Do you have mead?"

"What?"

"Alcohol. Please." Thor looked sadly at Steve, hoping he wouldn't question him further.

Steve frowned, silent judgments flashing through him momentarily before he dislodged himself from the opposite couch and got settled into pouring out a glass of scotch.

"Do you know why he was here?" The question slipped from the super soldier's mouth before he could mentally chastise it.

Thor took a long swig from the glass before gently placing it on the table.

"No." The thunder god looked like he was about to say more before he held his head in his hands and decompensated. "I do not know why Barton acted in the way he did and I cannot shake my anger from within my bones. I want to hurt him as he's hurt me, and yet I know I cannot. I only…I only wish for my brother to be okay, to understand why he was here, to make sense out of everything because…" Thor gasped. "Because nothing-"

"Nothing makes sense," Steve supplied with empathy. "I'm so sorry, Thor." Steve wordlessly refilled his glass, this time with water. "We're going to figure this out."

Thor looked as though he didn't believe him and Steve tried not to mind. He nodded silently, taking a big gulp of the water tinkling with ice in the glass.

"Thank you, captain," Thor said in earnest.

Steve merely nodded in response.

Thor was about to mention something else when the elevator dinged and Tony and Bruce trampled out.

"Friends," Thor introduced, rising slightly before re-administering himself into the couch.

Tony immediately eye-balled the alcohol but remained steadfast by Bruce's side. Alcohol could wait.

"How is my brother?" New hope sparkled with the tears in Thor's eyes.

"All things considered, he's all right," Bruce ventured into the fire, taking in as much of the situation as he could. "It looks like he has a couple of fractures and dislocations, and we have to work on managing his pain and be cautious of any pneumonia that may arise later. But, for now, he's okay. We ran an EKG and his heart looks normal; he'll need a splint for the arm and we're hoping the fracture in his leg will heal on its own. Until he wakes up, we won't know the extent of his injuries and if there are any damaging effects of the trauma he's endured." Bruce placed his hands together, carefully reviewing Thor's body language.

Thor had been in the dark about Loki's condition for longer than Bruce would have liked and he had yet to tell the god that his brother burned through painkillers every twenty minutes but Bruce thought it was important to break the news gradually, not all at once, as he suspected Thor was still in a state of shock.

The thunder god's blue eyes looked hazy as he absorbed what Banner had just said.

"My brother is part Aesir. He will heal on his own, likely faster than you all realize." Thor's lips shuddered into a thin line. "He will be okay. He has to be…" Thor's shoulders began to shake as tears formed to the brim of his eyes. "My brother has been sick many a time but never so drastically. I hope you will not take ill of me to wait until I see him next. I…it's a difficult situation. I believe I need to rest my rage for a time before I can see him again. Do you understand, my friends?"

Thor didn't exactly look up at them but rather saw through them.

Tony was the first to say, "Take as long as you need."

And Bruce added limply, "If he burns through the medicine as fast as you believe, he may awaken before nightfall. That gives you a couple of hours to replenish yourself. It's important that you take care of yourself, Thor. Loki's going to require all of you in order to get better. I will probably make a few calls to help us all get through this situation. I don't want to leave any rock unturned. So, go, Thor. We'll take care of him from here."

With their permission granted, Thor moved robotically to the silver elevator, not daring to cast even one look back at his fellow teammates until the elevator chimed and he stood almost lifelessly as the doors closed before him.

Only in the quiet of his loneliness did tears stream down his cheeks for everything he had lost and everything he was still in danger of losing again.

~#*#~

It was with great care, that the thunder god did not feel, that he turned the knobs of the shower on and stepped into the frozen droplets. The icy, chilled water reminded Thor of Jotunheim and, in turn, his brother lying dead on that shoreline.

Thor couldn't wrap his mind around what had exactly happened. One moment the Avengers were a team together in the helicarrier and the next, out of the corner of his eyes, Thor saw the green and gold clad family member he hadn't seen in years disappear from his stance aboard the ship and fell, no, **plummeted** to the ocean below.

 _Not alone,_ Thor reminded himself. Barton was with him. The archer was strangling his brother underwater.

Thor gasped as though air refused to come into **his** lungs.

What a terrible and lonely death that would have been. And Loki did die, for a time, an hour they said, he was gone from the world. And, somehow, even though Loki had been absent in Thor's heart for years, there had always existed that possibility that he could come back-but not in death. In death, Loki would be lost to Thor and lost to the world around him.

To think it was possible to exist without his younger sibling was a darkness Thor could not shed from his shoulders. How bleak the world would be without his trickster of a brother. There would be a gap of mischief in Thor's soul that no other could replace. It would be almost equivalent to losing Jane, except much, much worse. Loki carried so many of the same memories as Thor from their family and their childhood, memories no other being, save Heimdall and father, could begin to imagine.

And now…now what? Loki could possibly never return to the world of the living, not in the same way as before. Thor hated the possibility but it was just that-a _possibility_. His brother could be brain damaged, a horror Thor knew not how to experience. Or Loki could be in a coma for the rest of his days. He could never come back at all while still being present in his body. But body and mind would be disconnected and, like that, would Loki even wish to live?

Thor clamped his tongue between his teeth and bit down hard until the taste of blood filled his gums and he was substantially distracted. For some reason, thinking of the horrors that lay in Loki's mind meant the thunder god could not fester over the rage he still felt for Barton.

Why, why did the archer act on impulse?

All of this could have been prevented. If only Thor hadn't sat so far away, he could have gotten to Loki first. He could have saved his brother-and wasn't that the only job as an older sibling that he had? He should have been there for Loki. Now, before, later-always missing in action Thor was. When Loki went through his identity crisis-where was Thor? Banished to Midgard. Where was Thor when Loki was captured by the Chitauri? On Asgard, thinking his brother to be dead. Where was Thor when Loki invaded Midgard? Fighting against his brother and against his alien army that he couldn't have possessed alone. Every time Loki needed Thor, really, truly needed an older brother and someone on his side, Thor was never there. Even when he was physically there, it was always in opposition. Thor had seen Loki die again in Svartalfheim only for him to appear alive again when Thor had been so convinced that he was finally forever gone.

But he hadn't seen, let alone spoken, to Loki since then. It had been eight long, mischief absent years. Thor had naturally thought him dead, only for him to reappear in a shroud of mystery back on Midgard only to plunge into the ocean with….him. **Barton**.

Thor hadn't spoken to the archer yet about what happened- **why** it happened-and it was looking like he wouldn't get the chance to yet. Thor had to be different this time; he had to be on the side of his brother, no matter how much it caused his heart to break. Thor didn't want to cause a rift amongst the team but he felt now that he had no choice. He couldn't seemingly betray Loki again. He had almost completely lost Loki, just as he did Frigga, and Thor couldn't bear that any more. He needed, **required** , some aspect of his dysfunctional family to remain intact.

Otherwise, what point was there? What point in anything was there? If Thor couldn't be loyal to his blood, why was he ever trying to pretend to be there for Loki?

He needed to change for the better. For Loki's sake. Finally, Thor was going to do something just for Loki's sake. That had to mean both something and everything.

Thor had just stepped out of the bathroom, his clothing a black and grey combination when he settled heavily, still largely wet, into his bed. He curled up into a ball and forced his mind to clear, which was a struggle of epic proportions, before he heard an eager knocking on his bedroom's door.

"Thor," Man of Iron said from the other side. "We think he's waking up."

A sizzle of new energy entered Thor's bloodstream, as adrenaline passed through the exhaustion that crippled his self-esteem.

"I will be right there," he murmured, taking a moment to breathe before rising again and taking the shriveling motivation lying within him to face the world and his brother once again.

He hoped, eternally, that it wouldn't be for the last time.

* * *

 **A/N:** Welp, this took me forever to update! My apologies on that end! Between writer's block and updating different stories (if you read my others you'll start to see a similar theme/pattern to them, like in this chapter it reminds me of 'Severed') and dealing with finals and summer beginning…I've had a lot on my plate! My wrist also protested all of this writing alongside some book reviews that I handwrote so that also explains my absence, at least of the last week! Here's hoping I can get more handwriting chapters done on various stories (as I have multiple ones in progress at the moment) and then typed and uploaded. :]! Any who let me know what you thought of this and how the story is progressing! If you have time, check out some of my other stories, too! :]

Oh, and I could have sworn I mentioned this in previous chapters so unless I'm mixing up my timelines with other fics, this story does take place in an AU 8 years after Thor: The Dark World… Right? Yeah, let's go with that! Thank you SO MUCH for reading! Love to you all!

Handwritten: 3/7, 3/9, 5/28, 5/29

Typed: 6/1, 6/4

Edited: 6/4/2018


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